Back in Town
by hoopznyoyo
Summary: Don Flack rekindles an old friendship and never imagined where it might lead
1. Chapter 1

"Hey, Jordan!" a voice called.

Jordan Montgomery turned, looked around the crowded bar and tried to think where she knew the voice. The noise from the Friday night crowd at Flanagan's distorted it just enough that she couldn't place it. She swiveled back around on her stool and found herself looking directly into a grey t-shirt. Her gaze shifted upwards and found where the familiar voice came from. "Jordan Montgomery, how've you been?" he said, his words almost imperceptibly slurred. "I haven't seen you in ages. Let me buy you a drink."

"Hi, Donnie," she said and smiled. He was right; they hadn't seen each other in ages. She had avoided calling him since she had returned to New York. Jordan had also invented half-hearted reasons why not to call him while she was working in France the past seven months. These reasons included everything from her being too busy with work, not wanting to bother him, and not wanting to figure out the time difference. When she returned to the States last week she continued to avoid places she knew he might be but tonight she decided to visit one of the spots they liked to hangout. Despite her initial reluctance to see him, at that moment Jordan was undeniably happy to see him standing there. Jordan Montgomery had more than a slight crush on Don Flack since forever. His dark hair, clear blue eyes, and snarky, sarcastic sense of humor had always made her melt inside. It was one of the few things she had never told him.

"So, how have you been?" she asked filling an awkward silence.

"I'm okay," he answered. "You?"

"Not bad," she said loudly. "How's your sister?"

"Sam?" he asked. "Okay, I guess. I haven't seen her in a while."

Jordan shook her head slightly at his reply but said nothing. Don's relationship with his sister had been strained since they were teenagers. Jordan had tried to mediate their arguments occasionally when they were younger; as they had gotten older, she usually tried not to get caught in the middle.

"Are you working this weekend?" she asked changing the subject.

"What?" he questioned leaning in close. "I can't hear you."

"Why don't we get out of this noise and let me buy you a coffee?" she asked not really knowing if she wanted him to agree or not.

"Sure," he nodded in agreement. "It's getting pretty crowded in here anyway." They left Flanagan's together and headed for the coffee shop just around the corner. They sat at a table and she ordered two coffees, one regular and one decaf. "So, what's new?" she asked him, meeting his blue eyes with her own.

"You look great," Don Flack replied ignoring her question. He wondered if she had always as pretty as she was at that very moment; bobbed, light brown hair with sun-kissed highlights framed her face, accenting her high cheekbones and wide blue eyes. "Where've you been? I haven't heard from you in months."

"France. Working," she answered as the waitress set down the coffee. "You do have my number, you know." Jordan took the time to study him. He was just beyond a little buzzed; anyone else might not have even noticed. It was so not like him. Her father had told her about his girlfriend being killed in the line of duty not long after she left for France. He must really be taking it hard, she thought. She didn't know he hadn't been out drinking in about a month, but tonight for some reason he was on his way to having a few too many. That was until he saw her.

"I figured you were probably too busy to talk to me," he responded then tried to joke. "You know, the international flights, the non-stop meetings, the language barrier."

"I'm never too busy for you," she replied. "I just got back last week. By the way, you look like hell tonight." His pale blue eyes were red and looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes that she hadn't seen before and she could swear a few more grey hairs had appeared in his almost black hair.

Yes, that was Jordan, always willing to call it as she saw it, especially to him. "Thanks," he replied and took a sip of the hot coffee. She smiled wryly in response. He should know by now if he wanted to be coddled and lied to he needed to go find someone else. She had told him that often enough over the years.

To outsiders, the strong friendship Don Flack and Jordan Montgomery shared seemed unlikely. He was from a working class police family; hers had an international business and lived in the affluent suburbs. Their lives had crossed by chance when they were quite young and from that time on both they and their families had remained close. Jordan still remembered the evening her mother was killed by a hit and run drunk driver clearly. She could recall opening the front door and seeing a policeman on the other side. That man was Don's father. He had been tasked with the unpleasant duty of going to the Montgomery household to tell them Dominique would not be coming home. She remembered the look on the policeman's face as he watched her tears. Jordan didn't know then the policeman himself had children around the same age as she and her brother were. During the ordeal of finding the person responsible and the resulting trial, Don Flack, Sr. and Dennis Montgomery, Jordan's father, had become friends. Jordan and her brother, Tristan, along with Don and his sister and brother spent many weekends together after that. Dennis Montgomery had even taken the Flack children along to the family's beach house many summers. Throughout the years they had all kept in touch and still got together for an occasional drink or dinner.

Don, Jr. and Jordan were always especially close and that bond remained all through high school, Don's police training and her college studies, and into their adult lives. They often went to hockey games together, would meet for pizza or pick up Chinese and just talk and hang out for hours. The last time Don called Jordan had been right after Angell was killed. Jordan didn't return the call until weeks later; when she did, he didn't answer. Prior to that, they had argued over her then boyfriend. Don, who was trying to be polite, said Scott had a wandering eye and wasn't good enough for her. Jordan told Don to mind his own business not as politely. As it turned out, Don had been right and she didn't want to hear his 'I told you so'.


	2. Chapter 2

Though she could go on talking to Don Flack for hours, Jordan yawned and decided it was time she went home. "Donnie, it's late and I'm tired; I gotta go."

"Let me take you," he answered her. "My car's just around the corner."

"I'll catch a cab. You're in no shape to drive me or yourself anywhere," she told him. "Why don't you come with me? I've got a spare room and you can get your car tomorrow when you're in a condition to drive."

"Okay, Mom," he shot back.

"Well, hockey season's here and it's much easier to get you to a game if you're alive and not in jail," she said glaring, "Unless, of course, you've given up on the Rangers. Besides, you know I'm not letting you drive anywhere after you've had a few."

Outside the coffee shop, they caught a cab to the apartment building where Jordan now lived. "Hey, this is new. I haven't been here before," he said as they pulled up.

"I moved in eight, nine months ago," she replied, watching for his reaction.

"What? I didn't get an invitation?" he said and then suddenly recalled the last time they had spoken. "Um, Jordan, I'm sorry about what I said the last time we talked."

"Don't worry about it," she said as they got out of the cab. "You were right, anyway." She looked up directly into his eyes, challenging him to say more.

As they walked through the entrance, she called hello to the doorman. Neither spoke during the ride up to her floor or as Jordan led him down the hall to her apartment. She unlocked the door and they walked inside.

"Nice," he said looking around. "Big difference from that first place you lived."

"Remember that place? I seriously miss it sometimes," she replied, thinking back to the tiny, studio apartment she moved into after college. It was all she could afford; her father had strict rules regarding the money he gave his children. One day she would appreciate having to work for what she had he told her. He also ended up being right.

"Do I remember it?" he asked her. "Tristan and I had to carry_ all_ your stuff up _all _those steps… in the middle of summer. I must've lost ten pounds that day."

"What's with the 'had' to carry? You could have decided to be busy that day, your brother did. And for the record, I did carry one box, maybe two," she laughed, disappearing into her bedroom. "Make yourself at home. I'm going to change."

He wandered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. Don found some leftover pizza, grabbed it and walked out into the living room. "Nice view," he called out as he looked around. He wandered back to the kitchen looking for a drink. He knew there was beer in the refrigerator, he saw it while getting the pizza. In the end, he settled for water, knowing he had already had too much for the night and she had noticed. Seconds later, Jordan emerged from the bedroom dressed in yoga pants and t-shirt, went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. She also grabbed a slice of pizza as he stood on the other side of the open door watching her.

Jordan closed the door, pizza in hand, turned and stepped right into Flack. She hadn't expected him to be there and he held her arm gently to steady her. When she regained her balance he didn't let go, he just looked at her again; it had been years since he had really looked at her. The last time, he talked himself out of things before they even began. The beer he drank earlier bolstered his courage; there would be no backing down tonight. Jordan's slightly questioning gaze met his. He took advantage of her silence and kissed her, feeling her initial surprise and hesitation. Then she relaxed and returned the kiss; it was long and slow and deep and better than either imagined. A minute or two later, she pulled back, tingling from head to toe. "Donnie, stop," she said. "Not like this."

"Are you afraid you'll regret it in the morning?" he asked.

"No," she answered matter-of-factly. "I'm afraid you will and I can't live with knowing that."

"What?" He understood what she was saying and at the same time he didn't understand it at all. Jordan walked out of the kitchen grabbing a plate as she went, sat down on the couch and placed her pizza on the end table. He followed her and sat down next to her. She looked over at him. "You've been one of my best friends for so long," she said. "You've _always_ been there for me, no matter what. I don't want to lose that… lose you."

"You won't," he assured her.

"Donnie, I don't want to be the red-head from three weeks ago," she said trying to explain.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked angrily.

"I won't be your next one off." Then Jordan decided, whether he wanted to hear it or not, she was going to tell him how she felt. "I can go to a hockey game, grab food and be your best friend, no problem. I can even watch you go out with other women and pretend to be happy for you when really it's killing me; but I can't sleep with you and act like it didn't happen the next day. I like you too much, Donnie, I have for years and I know I couldn't pretend nothing happened. No matter how hard it is, I would rather have small bits like game night with you be mine than lose you totally because we don't know what to say to each other. If that even makes any sense."

He moved closer to her on the couch and put his arm around her surprised she didn't pull away. He wanted to tell her everything that was rushing through his mind but didn't know where to start. "Jordan…."

"Please don't say anything right now," she replied cutting him off.

"You gonna throw me out tonight?" he asked ignoring his feelings again.

"No," Jordan answered as she got up and headed to her bed. "I could never do that to you."

Flack watched her walk down the hallway and shook his head. He wanted to follow her; tell her that it wouldn't be a one-night stand. He was pretty sure she wouldn't believe him right then; he wasn't one hundred percent certain himself.

The next morning Jordan was up and awake early careful not to make too much noise. Her mind raced as she got herself something to eat. You really did it, Jordan, she told herself, you had to go and tell him how you feel. Jordan consoled herself by thinking maybe he wouldn't remember the conversation. She put her cereal bowl in the sink and turned around to find Don Flack standing there. "Morning," she said trying to push the thoughts out of her mind. "Can I get you anything?"

"Coffee would be nice," he answered, rubbing his forehead. "And get that smirk off your face."

"Why don't you grab a shower while I make coffee. It'll be done by time you get out," she said continuing to smile and trying not to laugh.

"Jordan," he said later, after the shower and a swallow of coffee. "About last night…"

"Don't," she replied, afraid to hear what he was going to say.

"You know you would never lose me. Never," he continued.

"Donald," she said, hoping to stop him.

"I was up thinking most of the night and it's my turn to talk now," he said. "The past six months or so have been a living hell, but last night there you were, out of the blue, and it was all okay again. And don't tell me it was the booze because I've had enough in me the last few months to know that wasn't it. I wanted to ask you out when you were in college and I didn't. I was afraid I wasn't good enough for you. I'm probably still not, but I'm asking now."

"You mean that?" she asked.

"You probably don't even remember this. You met Tristan and me one night after you got home from studying in France. I hadn't seen you in almost a year. When you got there it was like I was seeing you for the first time; I felt that same way tonight," he told her. "Tristan caught on and told me told ask you out that night; he said you'd say yes. I never asked."

Jordan stood leaning against the counter taking it all in, not saying a word. Don looked at her, took a deep breath and continued. "One thing I've learned is that life can change in an instant. I'm not going to waste the second chance I've got. Are we having dinner tonight, yes or no?"


	3. Chapter 3

After some serious discussion, Jordan had agreed to have dinner with Don the previous Saturday. They had gone to a small Italian place he knew of that had the greatest orecchiette with broccoli rabe and sausage she had ever tasted. The evening had gone well and after dinner they went back to Jordan's apartment and talked into the early hours of Sunday morning. Her apprehension over changing their relationship was disappearing.

On Monday, Don Flack stopped by Jordan's office to take her out for lunch. As he was waiting Dennis Montgomery, Jordan's father, walked through the reception area. "Don," he said. "It's good to see you. How have you been?"

"Fine," Don answered. "And yourself?"

"Can't complain," Dennis replied. "You're not here on official business are you?"

"No," Don said and smiled. "I thought I'd take Jordan to lunch since she's back in town."

"She's finally graced us with her presence again. I was beginning to think she wasn't going to come back," Jordan's father answered. "I know she's working for me over there but I really prefer it when she's on this side of the ocean. You know what I mean?"

Don agreed but said nothing as Jordan walked into the room. "Have a nice lunch," Dennis said as they left. "And Don, try to convince her she doesn't have to work until eight every night."

Over Dennis Montgomery's shoulder, Harry Milton, a computer technician watched Jordan leave with someone he had never seen before. "Where's Jordan going?" he asked Dennis Montgomery as he passed him.

"Lunch with an old friend. Why?" Dennis answered looking at Harry.

"She wanted me to check something on her computer. I guess I'll catch her later," Harry replied and hurried away.

After lunch, Don accompanied Jordan back to her office. Sophia, the receptionist, had something for Jordan; it was a florist's box containing 6 red roses. "It wasn't me," he said as Jordan searched for a card.

"I know," she answered, shaking her head, as Sophia chuckled. "They came last week too, right after I got back. I don't know who's sending them. Before you leave, I'll show you my office; they moved me to the other side since you were here last."

A few nights later Dennis Montgomery asked Jordan to join him at the Ranger's game at the Garden, adding that she could bring a date if she wanted. He was hoping she would agree to go. He knew Jordan loved hockey and he wanted her to get out more now that she was home. She had a tendency to throw herself into her work especially when unhappy; when she had left for the overseas office she had been just that. Dennis noticed her outlook was dramatically better since her return. He wasn't sure if it was the result of time away or if she had met someone. His other reason was a bit more selfish. A good client was visiting from France and would also be attending the hockey game. Dennis knew his daughter's French was much better than his, thanks to her mother.

Don and Jordan arrived at Madison Square Garden suite first. Soon after, Jordan's father and stepmother arrived accompanied by Stephane Granet and his wife. Following quick introductions and some drinks, they all settled in to watch the game. In between periods, Jordan translated as needed while Don looked on; her fluency had always amazed him. He spoke some Gaelic but it was mostly good for insulting other people not polite conversations. Dina, Jordan's stepmother watched the two "kids" closely during the game since she wasn't interested in hockey. She knew the pair had always been close but Don was intently focused on Jordan that evening. After the game, Dina observed Don and Jordan arm in arm while waiting for the elevator and noted with interest the kiss they shared.

"When are you going to tell them?" Don asked as they sat in Jordan's apartment after the game.

"Tell who, what?" she countered.

"You know exactly who and what. Your stepmother had her eye on me all night; I was waiting for the interrogation to begin," he replied as he turned from the window.

"Lots of women have had one or both eyes on you for as long as I've known you. You can't tell me you've never noticed," she said with a sly grin. "Aren't you a trained professional when it comes to interrogations? I'm sure you'd be able to handle it."

"I usually ask the questions, not answer them," he replied. "You don't want to tell them about us?"

She shrugged and then said, "Who did you tell?"

"Nobody," he admitted.

"Umm-hmm," she replied while nodding. "I'll tell them … when I'm ready. Aside from not hearing about my life from childhood, you get no other special treatment."

"Thanks for making me feel all warm and fuzzy," Don retorted.

Jordan put her arms around him and looked up into clear blue eyes. "Stay tonight," she murmured as she kissed him her tongue parting his lips. "Maybe I can upgrade warm and fuzzy to hot and bothered."

"Oh, you're definitely upgrading things," he said and kissed her behind the ear. He laughed as a shiver ran up her spine. "If you keep this up, I can't promise I'll stay in the spare room all night."

"You're not going to make it there at all," Jordan said as she pulled his shirt over his head.

"You're sure about this?" Don asked in between kisses as his hands fumbled with the buttons of her blouse. His hands pushed the shirt off her shoulders and it fell to the floor. She inhaled and bit her lip as he kissed his way down her neck and between her breasts while his hands ran over the blue satin of her bra.

"I'm sure," she murmured.


	4. Chapter 4

"Did you and Don enjoy the game?" Dina asked Jordan as they enjoyed lunch at S'Mac the following Saturday.

"It's always a good game when the Rangers win," Jordan answered and looked up from her plate to see Dina smiling at her. "What's that look for?"

"Does your father know?" Dina asked.

"Does my father know what?" Jordan asked innocently. From the look her stepmother had given her she knew what Dina was asking but decided to avoid answering as long as possible. "That the Rangers won? I hope so; he was there."

"I was thinking more of whether your father knows you and Don are … ummm," Dina trailed off. "What's the word I want?"

"What makes you think Don and I are … ummm, Mom?" Jordan asked as she felt her face get hot. She hoped she wasn't blushing much under Dina's scrutiny, as their post-game activities flashed through her mind. "Dad told me to bring someone if I wanted; I know Donnie likes hockey and it'll be a good time. Is he on the do not bring list, because no one informed me. "

"Jordan," her stepmother said laughing. Jordan and her stepmother had always been close and Dina knew how she felt about Don for years. "Stop. I'm not trying to pry. I saw the two of you at the game and the way he looked at you all night. It was a bit more than friendly attention. It's not a bad thing, especially if you get kissed like that every time he sees you."

"Fine. You win," Jordan sighed and gave up. "I guess you could say we are… ummm."

"So, after all this time, what brought this about?" Dina inquired.

"We ran into each other one night at Flanagan's about a week after I got back. We were talking and I don't know… we decided to see where it goes," Jordan said. "Is it wrong for me to be secretly ecstatic?"

"No… but it's not so secret," Dina stated genuinely happy for her. "You look positively joyful and that glint in your eye is unmistakable the past few weeks; love tends to do that."

"Are you gonna tell Dad?" Jordan asked warily.

"Jordan, eventually he is going to find out whether I say something or not," Dina replied shaking her head. "You're both adults, so what's the problem?"

"Remember last time?" Jordan replied. "Besides, what if it doesn't work out? Then I've gone through all that internal stress for nothing."

Dina nodded knowing what she was referring to. Jordan's father hadn't liked her last boyfriend, Scott, from their first meeting. As the relationship deteriorated, so had her father's feelings towards Scott; a fact he hadn't hidden from anyone, including Scott. "It will be fine; your father has always liked Don. What makes you think things aren't going to work out?"

"I don't know," Jordan hesitated before proceeding. "Maybe because it's good… better than I thought or hoped. It's like I'm waiting for the Dr. Jekyll Mr. Hyde act to begin."

"Jordan, don't do this to yourself," Dina replied. "Don isn't Scott; you know that. My advice to you is to stop thinking. Let it all happen as it will; it will be fine."

Two weeks later, Don answered the phone at his desk. "Detective Flack."

"Don, Dennis Montgomery. I'm sorry to bother you. I know you're on homicide now but I was wondering if you could do me a favor and look into something?"

"Sure, Mr. Montgomery. What's going on?" Don replied.

"You know Jordan's been getting flowers week after week; last night someone was in her office and computer. I don't have a good feeling about this," Dennis said.

"I'll be right over," Don said into the phone and then said to Danny Messer who had stopped by the precinct, "Come on, we'll grab lunch after I check on something."

On the other end of the line, Dennis Montgomery disconnected his cell phone and breathed a sigh of relief as his car pulled up in front of the office building.

"Did you get demoted?" Danny asked him as they entered the skyscraper where Jordan's office was located. "Since when do you look into corporate break-ins?"

"They're friends of the family, Messer," Flack explained stepping into the elevator. "I've known Jordan and her family since we were kids. Just be nice."

"Me? I'm always nice," Danny answered looking directly at Flack in the elevator. "Must be a good friend for you to do this, Flack."

"Yeah, she's a good friend," Don answered and felt his face getting red.

"Jordan, huh, she cute?" Messer teased and then laughed when he saw Flack's face. "Good for you, Flack. Good for you."

Dennis Montgomery met the pair as they exited the elevator and escorted them through the reception area and down to Jordan's office. "Thanks for coming by, Don. I appreciate it." Jordan looked up from the chair she had been sitting in as the trio entered her office. Her father told her he had called Don Flack about the incident. She hadn't yet decided if she was more annoyed that her stepmother told him they were seeing each other or grateful that he called Don without hesitation.

"You should've called me as soon as you got here," Don told Jordan. "You knew I was awake when you left. I would've come right over." He wasn't sure if her father knew about their relationship and at that moment he really didn't care.

"You're here now," she said glancing at her father, who then excused himself from the office. From the hall, Jordan's father looked on. Dennis Montgomery knew Don Flack was a good man; he had watched him grow up but he also knew what Don had been through recently. Dennis didn't want his daughter getting hurt, although he had to admit that recently she looked happier than she had in ages. He voiced his concern to Jordan after informing her he had called Don about her office. The conversation didn't go as well as he had hoped and she had stormed out of his office.

"Your dad didn't say much. It looks pretty neat in here, did you touch anything?" Don then asked.

"Yes and no. Don't go all cop on me and look at me like that," Jordan said as she saw Don's face. Next to him, Danny Messer held back a grin. "I came in, logged into my computer and that's when I knew someone had been in my stuff; files and folders were moved on the desktop, others were accessed. Then I looked around the rest of this place," Jordan continued. "There's a recent picture of me missing," she gestured to a shelf filled with small photo frames. "And some of the things on my desk aren't where they were when I left. Other than that, I didn't touch anything."

Don walked over to the shelf and looked over the photos. The photos Jordan kept in her office spanned many years and included older photos of Jordan with her mother and more recent ones with her family and friends. Don noticed there was even a photo of him with Jordan from years ago at the beach. He picked it up and smiled despite knowing if this was the same person sending the flowers they were getting bolder.

"Who has access to your office?" Flack turned and asked her.

"I rarely lock the door, what could you want to steal. There's nothing top-secret; most everything in here only has value to me," she replied.

"What about your computer?" he questioned as he replaced the photo.

"My father, brother and Sophia have access to my work calendar so they know where I'm at if they need me," Jordan replied.

"What about personal stuff?" Messer asked her. "Is anything like that on your laptop? You know, I've seen you somewhere before."

"Of course there's some personal stuff on it; it is my computer," she said to him. "Last night was one of the few nights I left it here. Maybe you saw me at the hospital when Donnie was recovering after the bombing."

"That's probably it," Danny Messer replied nodding. "Danny Messer."

"Jordan Montgomery," she replied. "Are you two partners?"

"No," Messer said. "Crime Scene Investigation for me. Flack says you two know each other since you were kids?"

"Can we get back on track here," Don Flack interrupted.

As Danny Messer and Don Flack settled at a small table in a hole in the wall pizza place with slices and soda Danny asked, "How long you been seeing Jordan?"

Don looked up from his slice, "About a month, I guess."

"A month!" Danny said with a look of surprise. "And you were going to mention it when?"

"I figured I was a big boy now and my social calendar didn't need your approval mom," Don snapped back.

"You know Flack she's got a steady job, has a quick comeback and she's beautiful," Danny said trying to ease the tension with some humor before asking seriously, "what's the problem?"

"I'm out of my league, Messer," Flack answered.

"Get outta here," Danny replied as he chewed. "She'd let you know if you were and _she_ is not gonna do that."

"And you know that how?" Don asked.

"I saw the way she looked at you when you weren't looking. She may not have called you but she was glad you were there," Danny said succinctly. "It's a CSI thing. You want to catch the Ranger game tomorrow night?"

"Can't," Don told him. "Already made plans to go with Jordan."

"She likes hockey?" Danny Messer inquired as they got up to leave.

"Yeah, she likes hockey," Flack answered with a smile.

"You know if I wasn't married you'd have some competition," Danny said laughing.

"Lindsay will be happy to hear that," Don answered. "Trust me, Messer, Jordan is _definitely_ out of your league."


	5. Chapter 5

Late one afternoon the next week, computer tech Harry Milton was in Jordan's office installing a new program on her computer. "Do you want me to install the new stuff I gave your dad, too?"

"It's going to have to wait. I don't have time tonight," she said. Don was picking her up and she wasn't about to make him wait.

"Okay, but if he sends you anything from that program, you're not going to be able to open it," he answered.

"I know. Dad said I need to stop working so much," she replied with an edge in her voice. "If it doesn't get updated, I can't work as much. He'll be very happy."

"He's right; you're always here. In early and leave late. You should get out and enjoy yourself," Harry said. "Speaking of getting out, I was wondering if you wanted to grab some food tonight?"

"I can't. I have plans. In fact, if I don't get moving, I'm going to be late and I hate people waiting on me," Jordan grabbed her purse and jacket and waited for the elevator while Harry watched from his cubicle. He hurriedly packed his stuff and got to the elevator in time to share a ride with her and three others from a floor above.

Flack was waiting right outside the doors for her as she exited the building. Harry walked out of the office building a few seconds after Jordan and watched her walk away with the "old friend" she went to lunch with weeks ago. As they waited at the sidewalk, Don got them a cab. "Where are we off to? No car?" she asked.

"It's a surprise," he told her.

"The Shake Shack; you're joking?" Jordan said as the cab stopped.

"C'mon Jords, when's the last time you were at the Shack? You probably haven't had a real burger since before you left; that's almost a year," Don said.

"That's beside the point. Do you know how long I'm going to have to spend in the gym after this? I'll bet at least two hours, probably more. I might as well just chain myself to a treadmill," she retorted with mock seriousness.

"Guess you should've worn other shoes. You could've walked home; got a good head start on those two hours." Don said blue eyes sparkling. "Are you finished? I'm starving."

"There's a surprise," Jordan shot back and grabbed his hand leading him into the Shake Shack. Thankfully it was a slow night and there wasn't much of a line. From the inside table, Jordan happened to glance past Don and out the window. As she watched the people pass outside a familiar face seemed to be looking back at her. She quickly blinked in disbelief. As she focused back out the window, the face was gone.

The next day Jordan was running late; she had rushed back to her apartment from Don's to change clothes and now had to get back to the office. It made for a hectic morning and put her in a less than pleasant mood. She arrived in her office out of breath with Sophia, their corporate receptionist for the past twenty years, following her. As Jordan sat with a thud in her chair, Sophia stood there smiling, a list in her hand. It was highly unlike Jordan to be late for anything, and Sophia was sure the reason was yesterday's dinner date, especially after speaking with Dennis Montgomery that morning.

"Jordan, let me get you some coffee," Sophia said holding up a paper. "I've got a list for you."

"Tell you what Sophia, you sit, I'll get the coffee and we'll go from there. Cream and sugar, right?" Jordan asked and dashed down the hall to the lunch area. She returned a few minutes later, shut the office door, handed Sophia a cup and sat down. "Okay, how bad is it?" Jordan asked.

"Let's see, your father wants to see you, he has questions on some accounts; Tristan called and needs to talk to you; Bernie over in sales was looking for you; Dina called and wanted to know if you're available for lunch and Harry was looking for you so he could update your computer or something," Sophia listed.

"Remind me never to be late again," Jordan answered. "I'll get dad first; there's probably steam coming out of his ears by now. I'll call Tristan after that. Please call Bernie and ask him if it can wait 'til around one; I can give him all the time he needs then. I won't have time for lunch with Dina today; I'll call her and let her know. As for my laptop getting updated, tell Harry he can shove it…"

"Jordan!" Sophia interjected before she could say more.

"Sorry," Jordan replied contritely.

"How was dinner?" Sophia asked changing the subject. "Where did you go?"

"Dinner was great, much as it hurts to admit it. We went to Shake Shack; Donnie decided it had been too long since I had a real burger," Jordan said watching for Sophia's reaction. She was almost certain her father had probably filled Sophia in while he had her ear that morning.

"Might I say that it's about time; I always hoped you two would get together. You know, if you leave a change of clothes at his place, you wouldn't be late from rushing all over town." Sophia said with a wink. "I can retire happy now."

"You can't retire. Ever. No one else knows how to run things around here," Jordan answered with a smile and then sighed. "I wish my father would be happy. He wanted me home; I came home. He tells me to stop working so much, find a nice guy to spend time with; I do that and it's still not good enough. What the hell does he want from me?"

Sophia had listened to Jordan's father earlier that morning on the subject. "Jordan, the problem is you and your father are too much alike. You're both convinced the other is wrong and you're both too stubborn to sit down, talk and see if that really is true. When your father wants to talk, try to ignore his grumbling and listen. He only wants the best for you, trust me," Sophia said to her.

"Okay," Jordan replied. She had guessed correctly; Sophia had heard her father's half of the story that morning. "Well, I'd better get going. Dad's been waiting long enough today. And, thanks." Jordan headed to her father's office and knocked on the half closed door. They had hardly spoken since the morning her office had been tampered with and Jordan was dreading talking to him now.

"Come in," Dennis Montgomery said from behind his desk.

"Sorry, Dad! I'm running a little late today. Sophia said you had some questions. What's up?" Jordan asked.

"Jordan you're allowed to be late once in a while. I was wondering where things stand with the Sevret account." As Jordan rose to leave after discussing the client in question, her father asked her to remain and shut the door.

"How was dinner?" he asked.

"Fine. Yours?" she responded shortly.

"Not bad. We had your favorite, chicken parmigiana; you should've stopped by," he told her. "You?"

"Decided to go healthy. Burger, cheese fries and an Upper West Slide," she said and then added. "Is he invited too?"

"Shake Shack? Dina hates when I bring up going there. At some point, she'll cave in, she always does. You're telling me you ate strawberries and bananas mixed up in the same container?" he said before pausing to ask. "Have I ever stopped you from bringing someone for dinner?"

"I told you, I decided to go healthy. Two fruits are better than none at all," Jordan answered. "If I do bring him what dad is going to be there: the nice one or the one who has decided he's not good enough?"

"Jordan," her father admonished. "None of my reservations have to do with whether or not he's good enough for you and you know that." Seeing the look of annoyance on her face he continued. "You may not believe it but I am happy for you. When you left earlier this year you were miserable. Did you think I didn't notice? I have also noticed since you came back, you're happy. I know Don has a lot to do with that, but I also know that Don has spent the better part of the year drinking way too much and talking up the wrong women. You shouldn't be a fling for anyone, not even Donald Flack; I don't care how much you like his blue eyes. The last thing in the world I want is to see you get hurt Jordan, and I especially don't want to know Don was the one who hurt you."

"I don't want to get hurt either," Jordan told her father. "This is your fault anyway; you're the one who ordered me home. If I was in France right now, I'd still be trying to forget him instead of dating him."

"Jordan," Dennis said. "It wasn't an order. We all missed you. You do know that running away doesn't really solve anything … not with Don or anyone else?"

"I know; at the time it seemed like a good idea," she replied. "You didn't put up much resistance to my going."

"It was supposed to be for a month. I thought it would do you good at the time, too," he said firmly. "I didn't know Don was part of your reason for wanting to go. I always hoped he knew what was happening and could get through to you when no one else could."

"Dad, he didn't know," Jordan said. "I think he felt something was off but I never said anything to him; I still haven't. Now, I've got a question for you. What's with the computer guy? Ever since I've been back he wants to fix this and update that. I like my tech toys as much as the next person, but it's ridiculous. And I could swear I saw him over by the Shake Shack last night while we were there."

"Jordan, you were here when he was hired. You were in on his interviews. Maybe he wanted a burger?" Dennis responded.

"I'm not saying he isn't capable of the job. I wouldn't think twice about it even if there are closer places you can go, but he asked if I wanted to grab some food with him before I left the office. It's just odd," Jordan replied.

"You said you weren't sure it was him," her father said. "Did you tell Don?"

"No. I wasn't sure and when I looked up again he wasn't there," she replied. "Between the break in and the flowers coming week after week, I'm probably starting to imagine things. I'm going to call Tristan now unless you'd like to discuss the rest of my evening."

"I draw the line at the menu," he laughed.

"I'll call home and see when parm's on the menu again. We'll stop by," Jordan said in truce.

"You don't have to wait that long, you know," her father replied.


	6. Chapter 6

"A bunch of us are going to Murphy's for some drinks when shift ends, do you want to join us?" Don said into the phone about three weeks later.

"A bunch of you?" Jordan asked on the other end of the call.

"Me, Danny, Lindsay, Stella, maybe Mac and a few others. You in?" he inquired. "Please don't say you're working late."

"I wasn't planning on working late, but I'm gonna pass anyway," she replied. "I'll see you at your place later, okay?"

"Everything okay?" he asked with concern.

"Everything's fine. It's been a long week and I just want to relax and enjoy some quiet," Jordan answered not telling him the real reason she didn't want to go to Murphy's, a bar known for the amount of cops and lawyers who frequented the place. "You go and have a good time. I'll be at your apartment playing princess of the remote."

"How about I pick up Chinese for dinner?" Don replied. She could hear the relief in his voice. "What am I bringing you?"

"Surprise me," she told him. "I'll see you later."

Later that evening Don and Danny were shooting pool at one of the tables in Murphy's when a voice said, "Nice shot, Detective Flack. Looks like you might have another career option if the cop thing doesn't work out for you." Both Danny Messer and Don Flack looked up from the table simultaneously. A tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed, athletically built man in a suit stood near one end of the table.

"Attorney Burnett, it's always a pleasure," Flack replied edgily.

"How've you been Don?" the man asked coolly.

"Just great. You?" Don Flack answered shortly and sank the eight ball in a corner pocket.

"The past seven months have been life changing, really. You know, you never realize how heavy the weight is on your shoulders until it's gone," he answered sarcastically taking a swallow of his beer. "If you see Jordan, be sure to give her my love. Oh, and Don, I was so sorry to hear about Detective Angell."

As the man walked away, Danny said to Flack, "Friend of yours?"

"Jordan's ex," Flack replied and tossed his cue on the table. "Let's go join the others; I gotta leave soon. I told Jordan I'd pick up dinner."

A knock on the apartment door slightly startled Jordan and caused her to jump as she sat watching television. She wondered who was at Donald Flack's door as she got up to answer it. She peered through the peephole and saw familiar bright blue eyes looking back at her.

"Lose your keys?" she asked as she opened the door for him.

"Nah. No one's ever opened the door to my apartment for me before," he told her as he walked inside. "I wanted to see what it felt like."

"And?" Jordan questioned.

"It's not bad," he said with a smile and began unpacking the bag with the food on the coffee table in the living room.

"What's for dinner?" she asked as she looked on.

"Let's see, we have steamed dumplings," Don replied as he opened a container and passed Jordan a pair of chopsticks. He then opened another box and said. "I have shrimp fried rice and you get beef chow fun. I also got some broccoli in garlic sauce since I know you like it."

"This is great," she replied and sat back down on the sofa, next to him. "You should make dinner more often."

"Guess who I saw at Murphy's?" Don Flack asked as they ate.

"Who?" Jordan replied as she reached for a dumpling.

"Scott Burnett," he answered. The dumpling in Jordan's chopsticks fell back into the container at his words.

She picked her head up and looked over at Don, her eyes wide. "And?"

"He sends his love," Don told her watching for her reaction.

She angrily jabbed her chopsticks into the chow fun and said, "That's not funny."

"It wasn't meant to be," he replied. "That's what he said."

"What else did he say?" she asked with exasperation. "Scott was never that brief even when he was saying something nice."

"Told me he was very sorry to hear about Angell and that he's a changed man the past seven months," Don said. "He's still the same bastard he always was."

"I wonder how much you edited for my benefit?" she said quickly. "I'm sorry you had to deal with him. I know Scott and I know how he is."

"Don't apologize for him, Jordan," he told her and then asked. "How often did you hear it when you were going out with him?"

"It doesn't matter now," she replied and looked at the television in order to avoid his gaze.

"Jords," he said gently and directed his face back towards his. "How often?"

"It doesn't matter now," she repeated and then changed the subject. "Are you coaching basketball tomorrow morning?"

"As long as I don't get called out I am," Don answered. "You coming to cheer us on again?"

"Of course," she replied smiling.

"You're off this weekend, right? Nothing's changed." Jordan asked as they sat watching television in Don's apartment on Monday evening.

"Yeah, I worked last weekend. I'm off Friday too. Why?" Don questioned back.

"I want to get out of the city for the weekend," she said her voice filled with a quiet desperation. "Away from mysterious boxes of flowers appearing week after week; away from personal photos disappearing and the reminder that someone finds my computer interesting enough to hack. Maybe if I'm not here I'll be able to forget about it for a few days."

"What'd you have in mind?" he asked when he heard tone of her voice.

They left Friday morning in Jordan's car. A little over three hours later they arrived in Cape May, New Jersey where Jordan's father owned a house facing the ocean.

"Isn't your house across from the beach?" Don asked as the car headed away from the water.

"Yes," Jordan answered. "We're hitting the grocery store first. I thought we'd eat in tonight."

"Does your father know the Hamptons are a lot closer to the city?" Don asked with a laugh when they finally pulled in the driveway of the house. "They have a beach there, too."

"My parents came here once on vacation. My mother loved it here: the houses, the color, the quiet," Jordan told him. "My father decided to indulge her since she left her home and family to come to America with him."

"Nice indulgence. I think you love it, too," he told her as his mind went back to the times he had spent at the house with Jordan's family when they were younger. "You were always at home here as much as you are in New York."

"So, you haven't been back here since we were in high school?" she asked with a smile.

"Nope. I'm a homebody," he answered with a laugh. "Bet you're here every weekend."

"No. I wasn't on this side of the Atlantic much this year, remember?" Jordan replied. "But even if I was, dad usually has it rented out most weeks in season which is fine; I like the off-season."

As Jordan put away the groceries Don looked out the kitchen window. "Jordan, there's been something I've been wanting to ask you for a while now. Why did you stay in France so long? For as long as I've known you, you've never stayed there more than a month, except when you were in college for that year."

She stopped what she was doing and turned around. "The office there needed help."

"For seven months?" he probed.

"Yeah," she answered. "One thing led to another; you know how it is."

"Jordan, cut the crap," he replied. "This is me you're talking to. The truth."

"The truth is, they did need help … for about a month," she admitted. "Staying the other six months was my choice, much to my father's dismay."

"Why'd you stay?" he pressed.

"Things with Scott weren't good, you know that," Jordan answered.

"You deserved better than him," he told her. "I still don't understand what you saw in him." She didn't answer. He watched as she rubbed her forehead and slightly shook her head.

"Jordan, I … I know I said some things back then I shouldn't have," Don said quietly.

"Donnie, you were honest about how you felt. As angry as it makes me at times, I always count on you for that. The thing is, you never knew how true everything you were saying was. I thought I could handle it. I thought I was handling it, up until the grab-ass started with one of the interns from the office the floor below his. When I confronted him about it … well, it didn't end quite the way I'd envisioned," she told him thoughtfully her eyes going dark at the memory.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked.

"Sometimes it's not so easy to admit that you're wrong and everyone else has been right," Jordan answered.

"I knew something wasn't right. You were always on edge when you two were out together. It was like you were someone else," Don replied watching her closely. His years on the police force had given him a different way of seeing the relationship. "Did he hit you the night you ended it?"

"No," she replied.

"How about before that night?" he questioned not letting her off the hook quite yet.

"No," she stated again and then saw the look in his eyes. "Donnie, he didn't hit me ever, although I'm sure it crossed his mind that night especially. When the opportunity at the Paris office came up I asked my father to let me go and take care of it. Going to Europe let me lick my wounds over Scott. No one there knew what had happened. I didn't have to listen to everyone say I told you so," she continued. "At the same time, I thought I could make a fresh start and get over you once and for all."

"Over me?" he repeated as if he didn't quite believe her.

"Don, we've had this conversation already," Jordan stated. "I had this romantic notion that Paris could make it all better."

"And it didn't?" he asked.

"Not really. I gave it good shot though," she said smiling. "And, as my father so very astutely pointed out to me, running away doesn't really solve anything."

"Jordan, don't be mad at him because he wanted you home," Don told her. "You mean the world to him. You're the closest thing he has to your mom."

"I'm not mad. If I wanted to totally piss him off I would've stayed in France," she replied. "I just don't think I can live up to those standards. It's a really high bar."

"You've been doing fine all your life," he said. "Trust me."

"Can we go walk around now? Maybe grab some lunch?" she asked. "If you say yes, I'll make dinner later."

"Do you have a back-up plan just in case?" he inquired his eyes sparkling as he handed her sunglasses.

"Remarks like that will not get you dinner," she retorted as they walked out the back door.

"That could be a good thing," he laughed and dodged the playful punch she threw at his arm.

"What're you doing?" Jordan asked as Don started putting on a tie early that evening when they were back at the house. While they were out walking Don convinced Jordan to have dinner out that night. She had agreed knowing he wanted her to relax and enjoy the weekend away and also because she wasn't the best of cooks.

"We're going out for dinner. You're all girled up and wearing that," he answered nodding towards the dress she had put on.

"I'm not letting you out of this house wearing that tie," she said seriously.

"What's wrong with it?" he asked and looked from her to the tie and back again.

"Really?" Jordan asked raising her eyebrows. She walked over and began loosening the knot of the tie. When she had the knot pulled out she tossed the tie aside and began unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt. "That's better," she stated when finished.

After enjoying dinner at a quiet restaurant, they went over to a bar on the next block. A local band was playing and a few people were on the floor dancing when they arrived. They sat sipping drinks until Jordan grabbed Don's hand when the band started playing after a short break. "Dance with me," she said.

"Do I have to?" he asked.

"Just this one," she replied. She rested her head on his shoulder as he held her close and quietly sang along in his ear as the band covered Nickelback's "Far Away."

They walked back to the house along the promenade. About halfway back to the house, she pulled his hand and led him toward one of the beach entrances. "I'm gonna get sand in my shoes," he said as they started onto the beach.

"That is pretty much guaranteed when you walk on the beach," Jordan replied as she slipped off her shoes. "If you take your shoes off it doesn't happen."

"These shoes are staying on," he stated as she walked down towards the water. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

"It counts as one of the best nights I've had since coming back home. May even beat being able to walk over the Pont Neuf all summer," Jordan answered as she walked at the edge of the waves. One hand held her shoes and her other arm was wrapped around Don's. "I had a great dinner with this guy who has the most amazing eyes. Now I get to walk along the beach with him. It doesn't get much better."

When they were directly across from the house she stopped walking and faced the water enjoying the sound of the waves and the occasional gull. He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Jordan enjoyed the warmth of his body next to hers and closed her eyes. Don leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I'm falling in love with you, Jordan."

"I fell a long time ago," she replied.


	7. Chapter 7

Late Sunday afternoon Jordan and Don walked into her apartment after returning from the Jersey shore. As they put their bags down in the living room Jordan looked over at Flack and said, "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked meeting her eyes.

"For going away this weekend," she replied. "I know coaching the kids at the Y means a lot to you. You gave that up to be with me; so thank you."

"I'm sure Danny did okay by himself for one Saturday," he told her as he sat down in an overstuffed armchair. "You mean a lot to me too, Jordan. I know it hasn't been easy for you with everything that's been happening."

"Do you think it will stop?" Jordan asked seriously.

"I'll find out who's sending the flowers," he responded as she sat on the arm of the chair next to him. "You need to stop thinking about it so much."

"You didn't answer my question," she pressed.

"You weren't supposed to notice that," Don told her. "Stalkers usually don't stop unless they're caught."

"That's encouraging," she said wryly.

"I will get this guy, Jordan," he replied as he pulled her into his lap. "But for the rest of tonight, you're not going to think about it."

"How was your weekend?" Dennis Montgomery asked his daughter over coffee as they sat in his office early Monday morning. It was their usual routine, going over business before all the interruptions of the day began. Jordan made sure to be on time after taking Friday off. She was sure her father would have lots to discuss.

"Not bad," Jordan said with a smile and blew on the hot drink she held.

"From the smile, I'd say it was a bit better than not bad," her father told her.

"It was nice to get away for a few days. The weather was nice and Vicky said to say hello," she replied.

"Everything okay at the house?" he questioned.

"There were no parties, wild or otherwise, if that's what you're asking," Jordan told him as she held back a grin. "It was short notice. I didn't have enough time to plan and send out invitations. What did I miss around here?"

They discussed business for a while before Dennis asked, "How's Don?"

"Donnie's fine, Dad," she answered without hesitation and watched her father carefully wondering what was coming next.

"He's not hitting the bars every night, is he?" he asked his daughter directly.

"Dad!" Jordan exclaimed. "Do you really think I'd put up with that?"

"With anyone else, no, you'd kick him out on his ass but this is Don Flack we're talking about," Dennis replied directly.

"I didn't take any crap from Don Flack before we started going out and I'm not about to now," she told him without flinching.

"That's my girl," he said proudly and then they both laughed. "I'm still waiting for you to bring him for dinner. You're not hoping I forget, are you?"

"Dad, we'll get there; his schedule isn't exactly nine to five," Jordan said and stood up. "If there's nothing else, I'm going to get started on the piles of papers, messages and calls that have probably taken over my desk."

"Have fun," Dennis replied laughing. "Last I heard there was three stacks about a foot high."

"How's your day going?" Don asked Jordan when she answered the phone later that morning.

"I'm drowning in papers," she told him. "There's never this much on any other Friday; I think they did it on purpose."

"They?" he questioned.

"The entire office, probably led by my father," she replied with a laugh. "If I were him, I wouldn't take a day off for a while. How's your morning?"

"It's been kinda quiet," he answered.

"That explains the phone call," Jordan said. "You're bored."

"I call," he protested.

"You do," she agreed. "Just not usually in the middle of a shift."

"I wanted to know how your day was going," Don said.

"It's going good, Detective Flack. I've got another call coming in. I'll talk to you tonight," she told him.

Later that afternoon Jordan took a break from reading a contract and spied something on the corner of her desk. She reached over and picked up a small seashell that she hadn't seen there earlier. She picked it up and walked down the hall to her father's office.

"Do you always carry around shells in your pockets?" she asked as she walked through the open door.

"No-o-o," Dennis Montgomery replied looking up from his computer. "Why?"

"I found this on my desk," Jordan said and held up the seashell. "It's pretty, even if the possibility of finding it on the beach in New Jersey is slim to none. When did you manage to put it there?"

"I didn't put that on your desk. I haven't been in your office since last Thursday," he told her.

"If it wasn't you, then who did? I didn't send out a memo with my plans for the weekend," she explained now feeling a bit uneasy.

"Jordan, it's an office, people talk; you know that," her father answered. "You might have casually mentioned it to one person; by now, everyone knows."

"That's reassuring," Jordan said unhappily.

"It's just a seashell. There's no reason to think it's connected to the flowers," Dennis replied, guessing at her train of thought.

"You're probably right," she sighed and walked out of the office as her father stared after her slightly shaking his head.

"Hey Jordan, how was your day off?" computer technician Harry Milton asked as he poked his head in Jordan's office at the end of the day.

"Okay," Jordan replied warily. She could feel her muscles automatically tense as she heard his voice. "Unfortunately, now I have to play catch up."

"That always happens," he said with a small laugh and walked inside her doorway. "Too bad someone can't figure out how to fix that."

"Maybe you should work on that," she answered trying to sound cheerful and friendly.

"Hey, do you want to get out of here and get a drink or something?" he asked.

"Maybe some other time Harry, I've really got too much to do right now," Jordan told him. "Besides everything here, I've got a lot of stuff at home to do." At that moment, her cell phone rang. "Hey Tristan, what's up? No, that's not a problem, I'll take care of it."

"They shouldn't rely on you so much," Harry told her when he heard her reply.

"Tristan will be home soon. I'll make sure he makes it up to me," she said and turned back to her computer screen.

"Don't stay all night, Jordan," Harry said as he walked out of her office.

"I won't," she replied absently and tried to find the information her brother had wanted.

About an hour later Jordan was walking through the lobby of the office building. As she approached the front doors and headed to a waiting car, a familiar face in the lobby caused her to slow up.

"Jordan, let me get the door for you," the handsome man said blocking her way.

"That's not necessary, Scott, I can manage," she replied as she tried to walk around him. "Have you taken up hanging out in office lobbies?"

"I had to meet someone," he answered coldly. "Funny coincidence that it just happened to be your office building. I saw your favorite cop the other night but I bet you already knew that."

"Did I?" she asked vaguely as she pushed open a door and started walking towards the curb. Jordan had no intention of letting Scott know that she was dating Don. "You're not still jealous, are you?"

"Me? Jealous of a run-of-the-mill homicide detective?" Scott replied angrily. "Trust me, I was never jealous of Don Flack."

"Oh, that's right," Jordan shot back as she approached the car. "You just didn't want me to have any friends but you."

"You'll never learn, Jordan," he said as she opened the car door and got inside. "You walked away from me and for what? What do you have now? Don seems to enjoy hanging out in the bar with the guys from work more than you these days."

A short time later Jordan knocked on a door and hoped someone was home to answer it. "Hi," she said when the door opened.

"I thought you were spending the night doing laundry," Don Flack said as he stepped aside to let her in.

"That was the plan," Jordan replied and pushed her hair out of her eyes. "Plans changed. I know I should've called on the way over; I didn't want to be alone."

"What's going on?" he asked. He carefully watched as she put her bag down and took her coat off. He noticed that she was still wearing what she had put on that morning to go to the office. "When we talked this morning you said everything was going good."

"It was," she answered and went to sit on the couch.

"What changed?" Don pressed for an answer.

"First, I found a seashell on my desk this afternoon and don't know how it got there," Jordan replied as she took the shell out of her pocket and gave it to him. "Then Harry drops by my office at five wants to buy me a drink after work, and finally, on my way out to the car, I run into Scott in the lobby."

"Scott, as in Scott Burnett?" he asked.

"That's the one," she answered and ran her hands through her hair.

"What did he want?" Don inquired somberly.

"He made sure to tell me that he saw you the other night," she told him. "And he also wanted to make sure I knew that I made a big mistake when I broke up with him."

"You know he was just pushing your buttons?" Don told her.

"I know and I pushed his a bit," Jordan said. "I know I should've kept my mouth shut and just walked away but he gets me so mad."

"As long as you know you shouldn't have," he answered sarcastically with a small smile. "With the way he treated you, I'm surprised you didn't hit him."

"I've thought about it," she told him. "Then I remember he's a lawyer."

"There is that," he agreed. "Let's get back to the shell. Who did you tell you were going away?"

"Other than my father and Sophie I can't remember telling anyone," she said. "My father thinks I probably mentioned it to someone over coffee and can't remember."

"He's probably right," Don said. "I wouldn't worry about it. You know, I didn't eat yet and I doubt you did either. How about I run and get a pizza while you get changed? Go take a hot shower and relax, okay."

"Okay," Jordan agreed. "No olives though."


End file.
